


This is the Rhythm of my Life

by pumpkinoreo



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Tilly is an empath, To be perfectly honest this fic is just me projecting anxiety onto Tilly, starts pre-disco canon but hopefully will progress to canon parallel, there is background culmets because how could I not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 07:19:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14303643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinoreo/pseuds/pumpkinoreo
Summary: Sylvia Tilly loves feelings. She also happens to feel others' feelings as well as her own.





	This is the Rhythm of my Life

**Author's Note:**

> This is short but bear with me with this! I write slow, but I'm enjoying this and I hope you like it too.

The ship was full of noise. Machines whirred, the walls hummed from vibrations, and floors sang with footfall; not a single patch in entire place was not swelling with energy. Sylvia Tilly could hear it all – the clicks and clunks. The sounds of a spaceship were unfamiliar and cold on her ears, leeching into her brain and leaving no room for any other thoughts. They had told her space carried no sound, trained her to cope with a ship that could be cold and lonely and uncaring. Nobody had warned her that even the quietest corners of the ship could be so loud. As she stepped down the passageways towards Engineering, Tilly could see that the lights were bright, and the way was clean and clear, but the song of the ship blurred the edges.

The ship was full of life. People travelled the passages, in groups, in pairs, on their own. A thousand souls on the ship - each carried their own sounds, a song sculpted from their life. Tilly could hear those all, too – or maybe see? Feel? It left an aura; happiness glowed soft and sweet, while sour thoughts lingered heavy and dark.

One of the lights, despite all of Star Fleet’s famed technology, flickered just out of the corner of Tilly’s sight. It drew her gaze before she could think to ignore it. Suddenly she saw how each light in the area throbbed at a different intensity and felt as if each screamed at her as she picked up speed to rush past. The passageway branched off, and Tilly’s feet instinctively led her to the right, muscle memory guiding her where her brain was faltering. Her hands balled themselves into fists, sharp fingernails pressing into her palms hard enough that they’d leave white crescent marks in their wake. The sensation refocused the attention of her brain, calming the chaos until she was again simply walking down a corridor with a dodgy circuit.

The Academy had been loud too, of course. Stuff any place full of students, and it naturally becomes an instant cacophony – both in sound and mind. But it had been somehow dull at the same time, full of supposedly rich beckons that Tilly could never bring herself to be attracted to. Although she enjoyed herself in joining fellow cadets in discovering parties in a big city with bright lights, Tilly truly found a new calling in her studies. Like a tribble to a grain bound, she took to mapping the inner workings of Star Fleet’s ... well. Fleet. Compared to the muddled cloud of a sentient brain, it didn’t take Tilly long to learn the tunes of these machines, to hear exactly how they fitted together and know each note of how they spin - and once she understood the known, she could turn and look outwards. To the unknown. Telling of infinite possibilities in a time and age heaving with potential, the stars called to her. Amongst the bustle of the Academy, a veritable hoard of the Federations best and brightest, Sylvia Tilly shone. And people noticed.

She was already speeding through her years at the Academy, but when Tilly heard she had been asked to finish her course early to serve on the Discovery, she jumped at it.

When she took to the stars, Tilly had expected adventure, yes. A thrill in exploring the far reaches of this universe, pushing her and her work to new, wonderful heights. She had not expected a war. But despite the tragedy, she could not ignore that she was incredibly lucky to have been given this place and, more importantly, an opportunity. Tilly could sense the path stretching ahead of her so viscerally she could almost see it. First step: Cadet. One day: Captain. Tilly worked hard and all modesty aside, she knew was exceptionally intelligent – and she could tell others knew it too. But it was hard to ignore how her fellow crewmates seemed separated from her as if by a sheer glass panel. Assigned without a partner in her room (curse her allergies), she found herself judging how it felt like she was alone everywhere on the ship, regardless of the company she was keeping. She tried hard! Or maybe that was the problem – people tended to shrink back when she smiled too much or laughed too loud. The stuffiness of the Star Fleet formalities and her amateur rank didn’t help either, tangling up her brain in a web of formalities. One would have thought that such access to emotions would have eased the development of social skills, but instead Tilly got to hear people’s thoughts frown unforgivingly every time she gracelessly trod all over acceptable etiquette. She desperately needed some time to find her social bearings, get comfortable with her crewmates and find the right people to make some friends. Two Ensigns walked past her, shaking her from her musings. Slowing to a halt in front of the turbolift panel, Tilly watched the two of them turn the corner. Dressed down in off-duty kit, the couple had linked arms and were smiling softly at each other. They projected such a blast of content and joy that a surge of bitter envy grabbed at the reaches of Tilly’s mind. She quickly forced herself to mentally clamp down on it. She would find her place here.

Right now, work was most important. The new inventions she worked on were marvellous, just thinking about them made her buzz and want to skip. Stamets’ work, theorizing a network spanning all of reality, and perhaps further, was just her area. This stretching of reality – this reaching out, grabbing the impossible and dragging it into the realms of possibility – was exactly the dream Tilly had envisioned.

A soft hiss announced the elevator doors sliding open in front of her, setting her face to face with the very man. He nodded shortly to acknowledge her as she joined him, and Tilly offered a slight inclination of her head in a mirrored response. The journey down was not long in seconds, but still Tilly found the time to fidget, tugging at the bottom of her uniform shirt to straighten it out. The jostle of movement caught her superior’s attention and merited a curious (or perhaps just confused) glance at her.

“Sorry.” She muttered, not quite meeting his eyes.

Tilly liked Lieutenant Stamets. Okay, that was a lie. Tilly _adored_ Lieutenant Stamets. True, he could be harsh, but never brutally so; and, ultimately, he was kind. The song she got from him was peaceful, matching the calm metric of his voice and his steady motions. He could stand stock still, deep in thought at his screen – something to which Tilly found herself both jealous and unnerved. He never seemed caught off guard by her clumsy social etiquette, although it was easy for even Tilly, with her limited understanding, to see that he didn’t have the strongest grasp of the Star Fleet Rule Book of Politeness either.

With another hiss the doors slid back open and Tilly stepped out, feet syncing to Stamets as he did the same. This chamber lacked the clinical lights or unwavering buzz of the outside and Tilly felt herself relax, brain leaning into the peace. Work sang to her too, a string of biological code just like a string of notes; numbers turned to life turned to song. Its melody was sweet and simple, easy to follow. Settling down at her station – they may not have assigned seats, but it was still her station – she engrossed herself in its flow. It helped mask the rest of the chaos of the ship, of the world. The rest of her shift slipped easily by, and Tilly barely noticed it was time to go. She carefully shut down her station, double checking everything was safely stored with a quiet sense of satisfaction from the day’s progress.

Walking over to the lift door, where Stamets was already standing, still scrolling through a PADD. Again, standing silent next to the man Tilly found herself uncomfortably awkward and was about to reach up and check all her coils were safety stowed away when Stamets broke the silence.

“The work you did on the transfer proof today was excellent, Cadet.”

“Oh, wow. Thank you!” Tilly blurted out, caught off guard. “I think it’s fascinating how the protein compares to the energy equivalent of the traditional method. It feels so natural – and of course it is compared to how we manufacture the energy codes – but the roots are undeniably the same.” She beamed up at Stamets, finding confidence his rare praise.

 “And of course, it’s such an honour to hear it from you, Sir.”

The lift, thankfully timed well for once, opened its doors, giving her no place to flounder. She followed Stamets in, the pride from his comment adding a bounce in her step.

As the lift settled to a stop, Tilly could hear someone on the other side. The doors slid open to reveal Doctor Culber, and Tilly smiled to herself as she watched a burst of joy radiate out of Stamets when he saw the other man – though it would have been impossible to discern from watching his expression.

“Doctor.”

Or maybe you could tell, if you knew him well enough. A slight upward tilt to the mouth, and a soft crinkle to his eyes.

“Lieutenant,” Culber rallied back immediately. Unlike Stamets, he made no hesitation in his smiles, his whole aura warm and bright. It seemed to reach out towards Stamets, so sweet it made Tilly feel vaguely claustrophobic and suddenly very out of place.

“I’m going to go, uh, leave. Now.”

Stamets swivelled round to face her, blinking slightly. He’d clearly forgotten she had been there at all. Well. If she had someone like Culber to look at, she wouldn’t blame him.

“Right, yes. Ok. Bye” She blurted out, picking a random direction to leave in. She made it about three strides down the wrong passage way before the world turned red.

Somewhere in the distance, Tilly could hear alarms ringing. Was someone shouting?

But she couldn’t hear past the screaming in her head.

The ship was full of death. It seeped into every hall; there was no place to hide from it. The song it wove was melancholy and blanketing and so, so loud. Tilly couldn’t hear anything else. 

**Author's Note:**

> Want more? come yell at me at @pumpkino on tumblr to help inspire me to get the next chapter out  
> (Something wrong? tell me so I can fix it!!)


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